


Dizzy

by Germindis, idontevenknowugh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Blood and Injury, Brother/Brother Incest, Captivity, Kidnapping, M/M, Painful Sex, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suffering Sans (Undertale), Torture, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2020-06-24 09:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Germindis/pseuds/Germindis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenknowugh/pseuds/idontevenknowugh
Summary: Underswap Papyrus loves his brother. He loves his brother a little too much. That is why he has two different versions of his brother kept in secret in his basement, and he's interested in adding a third.An alternate path of the fic Displacement where a few different choices lead to a choose your own adventure from hell. The part of the adventure you get to choose is not reading the fic.You don't need to read Displacement in order to understand this one, just be prepared for this one to be much longer and more suffering filled.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Dizzy main theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIGgK1wjYmU).

[ ](https://imgur.com/mRd9NFY)

The door handle must have had the opposite polarity from Sans’s hand, or else some force was holding Sans apart from it. His imagination couldn’t even bridge the gap between grabbing the handle and opening the door. The thing on the other side simply wasn’t supposed to exist.

The Underground brothel Red City wasn’t exactly known for its charming customer base, but the slug...the slug was a monster that was on another level of unfairness entirely. It was bad enough that Sans had served it once in the past. Muffet, Red City’s _monstrum dominans_ , was making him go to it again. Sans had put up with so many clients, offered his body to total strangers in ways he never would have considered before, that it seemed some part of him had secretly wished he would earn some reprieve. And now he was here.

Huffing like he’d walked a long way, Sans turned from the door, shakily contemplating dust motes hanging in the air rather than anything else. 

He couldn’t fucking do this.

The sound of quick footsteps started to echo faintly down the hallways, getting louder, coming closer. 

No one else should be all the way out here. Was it Muffet coming to shove Sans inside? Even that terrifying thought wasn’t enough to get his body moving. What if she punished his hesitation by restraining him in there? Sans’s limbs locked up.

Of all people, Papyrus jogged around the corner towards him. A smile spread across his face as he spotted Sans. 

“There you are,” he huffed as he came to a stop in front of him. 

Sans felt his soul do something in between breaking and exploding, the sight of his brother so overwhelming that it really didn’t matter.

And he was here, smiling at him, looking for him on purpose like he was worth coming for. 

Sans knew he was ordering his body to run to Papyrus, to never fucking leave his side again, but his legs stuck. He crumbled in front of him, legs folding under him as he slid into a straddle sit, hands coming halfway up to his face with some intent of hiding himself.

“I’m—P-papyrus, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I—“

He gasped, scared stiff he was about to cry in front of him. As weak as he’d shown himself to Papyrus, that was still beyond the pale.

“Wh—“ Papyrus tilted his skull slightly, his smile falling before coming back, even wider. “Oh! Oh, um, it’s fine.” He knelt down and set his hand on Sans’s shoulder. “It’s all fine now.”

Sans knew how dangerous it was to be vulnerable, but he was propelled into it anyway by a force stronger than any compunction in his little body. He practically launched into Papyrus’s arms, wrapping his arms around his brother’s shoulders to bring them into the first embrace he could remember them ever sharing.

Papyrus hesitated, then his arms came slowly around Sans, wrapping him in a return hug.

“Everything’s okay,” Papyrus said, rubbing Sans’s back. 

That turned out to be way too much.

Sans started blubbering in his arms, attempting to get some nonsense out of his mouth that might have been words, but none of that really mattered. Papyrus was here, and he was holding him. He was going to take him home.

“I got you,” Papyrus said, and his arm slid under Sans. With a grunt, Papyrus stood, bringing Sans up with him. “We have to hurry,” he said, starting to walk briskly back the way he came. “Keep your head down.” 

Sans obeyed wordlessly. He couldn’t believe it. Papyrus was actually rescuing him. The dreams he’d had about this moment were almost nightmares, they were so devastating to wake up from.

Suddenly, the world changed, and Sans was terrified that he really was about to wake up. He kept his head down like Papyrus instructed, but he could hear that the atmospheric noise was abruptly different. He clung tighter. Unlike the dreams, the feeling of his brother didn’t fade away, it only grew stronger and more real. It was still happening. Sans must have had a hiccup in his brain. It made as much sense for him to start to lose it from things being too good as he might with things being too bad to handle.

“Hang on,” Papyrus muttered, changing which arm supported Sans so he could do something with the other one. The light around them dimmed, accompanied by a few beeps. 

“Here we are.” Papyrus walked forwards a little further before pulling Sans away to set him on the edge of a flat surface. 

Sans was slow to look up into Papyrus’s face, as, of all things, he was suddenly embarrassed about holding onto Papyrus like that. His whole body was shaking, from terror or adrenaline or relief, he wasn’t sure. 

“Boss...thank you...you, you didn’t…” He didn’t leave him there. “What they were gonna, I, I couldn’t…”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Papyrus smiled and stroked his skull. “You’re never going back to that horrible place.”

Sans’s mouth kept running, probably because Papyrus was touching him so gently, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I...I didn’t tell you what it really was. You deserved b-...better than that.”

“I’m not mad,” Papyrus’s hand pet down Sans’s skull onto his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

Sans’s face felt soppy. He’d gone and let Papyrus see him cry, hadn’t he? It didn’t seem to matter anymore. He was warm wherever Papyrus touched. He almost told him he shouldn’t, Sans was too filthy, but he didn’t want Papyrus to stop. Sans whimpered, hiccuping as he rubbed at a wet socket with a fist.

Papyrus made a humming noise that sounded pleased. His thumb flicked under the edge of Sans’s coat collar and tugged it back. 

“Let’s get you out of these awful clothes.” 

Sans was startled a bit out of his mess from that. He looked up into Papyrus’s face, something odd standing out. Papyrus usually had a scar over his eye, didn’t he? Did he get it healed somehow?

“I thought you said they looked...professional…”

Sans turned red as he said it. Now that Papyrus knew what the uniform really was, he couldn’t find it anything other than awful.

“Uh, but wouldn’t you rather...get into something more comfortable?” Papyrus asked, pulling the jacket off Sans’s shoulders. 

Sans turned even redder. It felt wrong for his brother to be taking off his clothes like that. It made something squirm uncomfortably in his soul. He quickly went about taking the jacket off the rest of the way himself.

“Um, yeah, I just...I don’t have anything with…” Sans took a look at his surroundings for the first time. The basement? With a lot more equipment in it than he remembered leaving there. Was Papyrus worried about them being followed, sought out in the upper levels of their house? 

“Did you...bring some of my clothes down…?” Sans could hear how meek his voice sounded. It wasn’t the biggest deal, but after everything, it made him feel so weak to be asking for clothes from Papyrus.

“Oh, um, sure,” Papyrus replied absently, starting to undo the top button of Sans’s shirt. 

Sans just stared at what Papyrus’s hands were doing.

“What are you…” It felt almost too ridiculous to say out loud. “I can change clothes myself…”

“I don’t mind helping,” Papyrus’s voice had a tone of forced casualness as he went on to the next button, his fingers brushing against Sans’s sternum. 

Sans gulped. ‘Minding’ wasn’t really the problem. He still couldn’t bring himself to push his brother away. He’d put Papyrus through so much. 

“I…” Sans started, but confusion and shock took away the rest of his words. Watching his brother...undress him was too surreal. 

Papyrus kept going, working his way down to the last button. He held the tails of Sans’s shirt for a moment, as though contemplating something. 

Feeling extremely awkward and embarrassed, Sans started to shrug off one arm of the dress shirt.

“So the...other clothes, Boss…?” Sans asked, not eager to wait half naked in front of him once this shirt was off.

“Oh, yeah, in a minute,” Papyrus said dismissively. He was staring at Sans’s ribs as his shirt fell away on that side. 

That look made the uncomfortable squirming in Sans’s soul come back. One hand automatically came back up to partially hide his chest in a shyer gesture than he’d committed in a long time.

Papyrus only laughed. He reached out and grabbed the button of Sans’s pants next. 

Sans heard himself audibly gasp. An icy stone of fear slid down the inside of him somewhere. His voice was so pitifully tiny.

“Papyrus…?”

“Hm?” Papyrus asked, popping the button open and unzipping the fly. His fingers surely wouldn’t need to dip inside Sans’s pants to do that, but they brushed against his pelvis...and lingered. 

Sans’s whole body must have been shaking. He wasn’t entirely aware of speaking as words came out.

“What are...why are you doing this?”

Papyrus didn’t reply. He shoved his whole hand into Sans’s pants and grabbed the front of his pelvis. 

Sans went stiff, one hand flying to grip Papyrus’s arm. Not that he could hope to do anything.

“Boss—! Please, stop!”

“Why?” Papyrus asked, as if he had no idea what was wrong with what he was doing. He rubbed at the bone. 

“Ukk!”

Sans jerked at the touch. His magic already wanted to submit to the show of interest. Sans thought he might throw up. He wanted to tug Papyrus’s hand away, to stop feeling that awful rubbing, but he didn’t want to confront what was going on down there. He gave a choked gasp.

“I-I don’t understand!”

“I know, but you will,” Papyrus licked his teeth and pulled his hand out, making Sans let out his breath. Then Papyrus pulled Sans forward and pressed their crotches together, which meant Sans could feel the very solid bulge in Papyrus’s pants.

Sans’s magic apparently decided that was reason enough to form, pressing into…

“Gk! Uhh!” Sans’s throat made a few choppy noises before the crying really started. How could this be happening? His voice was wet as he shook his head minutely from side to side.

“No...no...you can’t...no…” 

“You don’t get to decide that,” Papyrus moaned, grinding into Sans’s magic. Anything else he might have said was lost in a loud, metallic rattling from behind him. Sans’s mandible trembled as he turned his skull to look, look at anything that wasn’t what was happening to him. What was going on behind him turned out to not help at all.

There were two of him, in chains and completely stripped; one of them looked like he’d been scratched and cut to an inch of his life. Or no, those scars were old…? The second one of him managed to look like he’d been beaten without showing signs of any injuries, only smooth bone. All the noise was coming from the scarred version of him, who was also gagged. The sight of it just about tipped Sans over the edge into absolute terror. He touched Papyrus’s arm, afraid to even be that bold.

“What’s...going on?”

“Welcome to your new home—shoot, can’t call you Red. Red two? No…” Papyrus looked past Sans as he muttered to himself. The scarred him kept pulling at a thick metal chain that anchored him to the wall by a collar. Was that what was waiting for Sans? He took another look at Papyrus.

He was wearing a shabby orange hoodie, looking generally unkempt. Sans might have been surprised he hadn’t taken it in before, if it weren’t for the circumstances.

If there was more of Sans here, did that mean this wasn’t the same Papyrus Sans knew, who was supposed to be off training with Undyne? 

With this many duplicates in one room, it didn’t make sense at all for this to be some kind of Moldbygg trick. A time distortion, then?

Whatever had gone wrong had left this version of his brother very strange indeed. It couldn’t be any minor hiccup, like a missed week. The difference between this Papyrus and the one he’d known had to be vast. Sans reached a hand unthinkingly towards the other’s face.

“Papyrus, what...what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” Papyrus frowned. “Nothing happened to me.”

Sans’s hand wilted from actually touching Papyrus at the show of disapproval. 

“All of this…” Sans glanced at the other two hims again. “This isn’t you. Why would you do this?”

“It is me. I’m protecting Sans.” He frowned and looked under the table. After some digging around he pulled out four metal cuffs and a collar that matched the ones the other hims were wearing. The scarred one started up another ruckus at that. 

Sans trembled in place, unable to hold back a low whimper. Restraints.

“Please…” 

Papyrus didn’t even bother acknowledging that. He drew the collar around Sans’s neck and latched it closed with a small lock. Then he pulled on Sans’s shirt to get it off his other arm. 

Sans let him without resisting. What could he do? Sans wasn’t even sure at this point if the problem was that he couldn’t do anything to save himself, or that he wouldn’t. He’d always promised he’d give Papyrus anything he wanted.

“How does this protect Sans?” Sans eyed the two on the wall. “ _Which_ Sans?”

“The real Sans,” Papyrus replied, fixing a cuff around Sans’s left wrist. 

Sniffling, Sans concentrated to banish his magic. There was absolutely no reason for it to be there while he was chained up like this, even though the familiarity of the situation caused an odd pressure that made it want to stay formed. He sighed as it went back to nothing but bone.

“In terms of physics, there is no ‘real’ Sans.”

“Well, sure, but there is to me.” Papyrus glanced down at Sans’s crotch and frowned. “We’re going to get back to that.”

Sans cringed inward, a small noise of fear escaping. His pussy was back just like that, because why wouldn’t it be, the broken piece of shit.

“There you go,” Papyrus brightened. He started pulling on Sans’s pants. “You’ll get used to it here.”

Used to it. Sans kept looking back at the others. The one that didn’t have any scars, who was huddled in the corner, was in pitiful shape. He looked about how Sans imagined himself looking after one night here. 

“What are...you protecting Sans from?” He looked up into Papyrus’s face, as much as that disturbing expression hurt to see. “...from yourself?”

“I would never hurt him,” Papyrus snapped. He slipped the pants off and fit cuffs around each of Sans’s ankles. 

“Sans is too innocent. I could never corrupt him like that. I would never do that to him.” 

Sans held up his hands, the new cuff on the left wrist jangling.

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I...I wanna help you. I just want to understand.”

“Oh,” Papyrus grabbed the last cuff, wrapping it around Sans’s wrist almost reverently. Once it was closed, he looked up at Sans and leaned in to kiss him.

Sans automatically drew back, then held himself still. The kiss felt so wrong. It made the tips of his fingers tingle like they wanted to leap off of his body. He wanted to understand, but couldn’t Papyrus just use words first? He always loved explaining his plans in intricate detail. Maybe this Papyrus wasn’t like that. 

He didn’t pause to make any grand speeches, his tongue shoving its way into Sans’s mouth as he started to rub his pussy. 

No. _No._

Sans tore himself backward, gulping on air as tears streamed freely down his face.

“Please, please stop, please Papyrus!”

Papyrus did, but he scowled at him. 

Sans couldn’t hold back anymore, full blubbery tears pouring as he tried to speak.

“Please talk to me, I’m sorry I’m. Trash. I’m sorry I m-messed up so many times. I’m sorry, please, just talk to me, I’ll d-do anything.”

“Then do this,” Papyrus said harshly. He grabbed Sans’s skull and pressed their mouths together again. 

Sans kept on crying into the kiss. He didn’t know what to do or think. Papyrus was going to—he couldn’t even imagine it. 

There was a loud clanging from behind Papyrus again. He pulled back from Sans and turned. 

“Knock that off, Red!” 

‘Red.’ One of the other hims. Sans turned to look too. Red had stepped back a few paces and was shaking his chain up and down. He shot Papyrus a glare and gave it a few more hard shakes, making a deafening noise. 

“Last warning,” Papyrus snapped. 

Sans looked between the two of them, feeling a sudden burst of fear for the other. Then again, all those cracks and scrapes, maybe he was just made of tougher stuff than Sans. What series of events led to _that_ guy?

Red grunted into his gag. The other, weaker-looking Sans behind him crept forward, his eyelights darting anxiously around. They landed on Sans for a bare half second before jumping to Papyrus. 

“Pl—“ he choked out, reaching for Papyrus. 

Sans felt himself flinching before he realized why. Those eyes looked so wrong, a dead grayish tint Sans had never seen before. It made this third Sans look alien. It took Sans a second to notice, glancing between the two of them, but this Papyrus didn’t have red eyes either. Sans had never heavily studied his brother’s face that he could remember. Maybe it was just the fact that Sans was seeing his own face on the other Sans that made the eyes truly alarming. Like seeing a vision of your own demise.

“Please,” the Sans pleaded quietly.

“I’m busy, Blue,” Papyrus said, much more kindly. He turned back to Sans with a sigh. He reached past Sans and brought some chains forward.

“Hold still for me,” he murmured as he began to fiddle with Sans’s collar. 

Sans experienced a modicum of irrational jealousy. Why did that Sans’s plea get that kind tone of voice, and Sans got glowered at? Tears still dripping steadily and body trembling, Sans held himself still in an effort to do the least of what Papyrus was asking.

Papyrus hooked a chain to Sans’s collar. He slid his hand down the chain, tugging on it, until he found the end. He attached that to Sans’s left wrist.

The finality of that restraint made Sans want to run. He wanted to say something, anything, but that had only been making Papyrus angry.

This Papyrus had seemed to be more open about touching—normal touching too. Quaking, Sans reached forward to embrace him again, clinging to his arms in a shallow hold that brought their chests together. He didn’t know what he was doing, exactly, but he felt compelled to try _something._

Papyrus froze for a second, but quickly relaxed. His arms shifted so his hands were resting along Sans’s lower back. 

“It’s going to be better for you here,” Papyrus said. 

Sans shifted too, letting his arms slide around Papyrus’s back, though the left arm couldn’t reach as long.

What Papyrus said sounded good, but then, ‘better’ was a very low bar to clear when the competition was the slug. 

Thinking back, Red City almost sounded nice now. 

“I’m afraid,” Sans admitted in a whisper. “I don’t know what to do for you.” 

“Yes, you do,” Papyrus sighed. “You’ve caught on, haven’t you?”

Playing into this couldn’t possibly be any way to actually help this Papyrus, could it? Sans lowered his skull, squeezing tighter.

“That’s...why I’m scared.”

Papyrus let out a frustrated whine. His hands nudged Sans’s hips forward, pressing their crotches together again. Papyrus was still hard. 

It was like Papyrus was sick with something. A strange pity that Sans had never been moved to feel for his brother before took a hold of his soul, and Sans was so close to giving in and doing what Papyrus was asking for that he felt disgusted with himself.

“I want to help you,” Sans repeated. As much as Papyrus insisted that Sans knew what to do, confusion and uncertainty swirled inside him. “I don’t think this would really help you…” 

“What do you know?” Papyrus let go of Sans’s hips and pushed Sans away. He kept the pressure on his shoulders until Sans was laying flat on the table, Papyrus between his legs. 

The treatment was too familiar. It made Sans freeze up, cowering under Papyrus. He wanted to hide, but all he managed was partially covering his face with rigid claws.

“I don’t...know anything...I’m sorry…”

“That’s right,” Papyrus agreed, and there was a pause. When he started moving again, however, it was to attach another chain, this time to the other arm. 

Sans breathed in shallowly. He was being chained up. It was only a matter of time before Papyrus tied him down, maybe gagged him too. He quaked, the edges of his sockets burning.

“Get rid of this,” Papyrus tapped Sans’s pussy. 

The touch made Sans flinch, but the words made his breathing suddenly easier. Papyrus had changed his mind?

“Really? I...yeah, of course…”

Sans squirmed, the task more difficult with the fear still coursing through his bones, but with a grunt he was able to banish it.

Papyrus dug through a few boxes and withdrew some more chain, which he cut down with an efficiency that came with practice. Sans didn’t want to contemplate that heavily, but a picture was already entering his mind of a fourth, previous Sans as a pile of dust amidst chains.

Papyrus turned back to Sans and attached one of the chains to his right leg, this time pulling the other end up to Sans’s pelvis.

How was he going to…? Sans took another peek at the other hims and did a double take, staring up at Papyrus with a full panic blooming.

“Please...I, I won’t do anything to fight you. Those...if it’s put on like that, my…” Sans cringed into himself, unwilling to tell any version of his brother about this particular problem of his. A vivid memory of the splintering sensation of a broom handle made him blurt it out. “It’ll mess up my magic really bad.” 

“Are you serious? It’s been fine before,” Papyrus huffed, still holding the chain. 

Sans tried, but he couldn’t get an answer out. He kept thinking about Lesser Dog shoving his fingers in with the bare bone, forcing him to form his magic like that in spite of Sans’s pleas, how useless it was. Sans gave a terrified sob, trembling harder.

“Oh, okay, okay,” Papyrus said soothingly after a minute. He took the chain off Sans’s ankle cuff and set it aside. He held his arms out to Sans. 

“It’s okay.” 

He was...listening to him? Sans was so taken aback that he sat there stupidly sniffling and wide eyed for too long a moment before he realized what those open arms meant. 

Hesitating only a second longer in disbelief, Sans threw himself forward into Papyrus’s arms. He buried his face in the sweater. He knew Papyrus could probably feel him crying on him, but he’d seen just about everything at this point anyway.

Something unspoken rumbled through Papyrus’s chest, and he hugged Sans tightly. He even rubbed Sans’s back for a minute before raising one arm slightly. 

“Almost out of time, damn.” 

Out of time? What did out of time mean? Of course his brother holding him like this couldn’t last. Sans raised his head to look at Papyrus.

Papyrus looked disgruntled, but he gave Sans a squeeze before pulling away. 

“Whatever you do, don’t trust Red,” he said as he picked Sans up and started to walk towards the other hims.

That made Sans’s eyes dart between Papyrus and ‘Red.’ The most Red had done so far was make noise and look angry. It didn’t appear there was anything else he could do at the moment with the way he was trussed up. Sans’s eyes lingered on the gag. Did Papyrus consider Red’s speech dangerous? The idea of a version of Sans who was cunning enough to manipulate through words alone was bordering on laughable.

And yet, in spite of whatever Papyrus was afraid of, it wasn’t enough to prevent him from chaining Sans up right next to the guy.

Sans turned back to Papyrus, giving him a nod of submission in hopes of appeasing him. Papyrus stroked his skull and smiled at him. 

“Everything is going to be okay now,” he said, setting Sans down on the floor near ‘Blue’. He picked up a thick chain from the ground. One end was hooked to the wall, the other he locked to Sans’s collar. 

Everything is going to be okay, Sans’s brother was saying as he chained him to a wall. What was wrong with this picture.

How on earth was Sans supposed to do something for Papyrus when he was this lost?

“I’ll be back in a bit, um, RC!” Papyrus snapped his fingers. 

Sans was shaken out of his thoughts.

“RC?”

“I need a way to tell you apart,” Papyrus explained, glancing over at Red, who had his large chain clutched in both hands. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snapped and stalked away from them towards some stairs leading up. 

The cogs in Sans’s brain were turning unforgivably slowly. So he was getting one of these cutesy little nicknames too, his transformation into one of the Sanses on the wall complete. What was ‘RC’ about, though? If only Sans could be Green, then they’d all be named after those human video games Alphys collected about historical monster slavery, though that might have been a little on the nose.

Then it clicked.

“RC...for Red City?”

“Yeah,” Papyrus paused on the first step and smiled at him. “I’ll be back soon,” he repeated before taking off up the stairs. 

“Oh,” Blue said softly, right before the sound of a door closing echoed down the stairs. 

Far be it from ‘RC’ to deny Papyrus anything he wanted. Still, RC felt himself slipping further, the wrongness of it all beginning to swallow him whole. Papyrus had listened to him, he told himself. He wasn’t like Lesser Dog or the other clients. Papyrus had at least the barest shadow of a heart, no matter what it was that had gone off with him, which meant that there was still hope.

That couldn’t make RC un-know the fact that his brother had purposefully, cheerfully named him after the place where he’d been tortured and raped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by the unholy author union of idontevenknowugh and germindis, aka McLeech. [Uggy](https://twitter.com/idek_uggy) and [McLeech](https://twitter.com/LeechMc) can be found on Twitter, twittering. Uggy is more likely to be twittering. McLeech is more likely to be in a hole underground digging for truffles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, how you must have missed the horrible asshole and his sad bean collection. Good news! Germindis and I have plenty more for you. Here's some now.

'RC', for lack of something else to call him yet, went totally quiet after the asshole left, hunching into his own space.

Sans looked between him and Ketchup, trying to decide where to start. How did he explain to him that he was now sex toy number three for the asshole without freaking him out further? Though, maybe he got that already. Sans hoped he had a different favorite food from him and Ketchup, because they’d need to call him something.

No matter what, he would need to get the gag off. He waved his phalanges at Ketchup, sex toy number one. The thought caused a nauseous twist in his soul so he shook it away. He eventually got Ketchup’s attention. He had been staring blankly at the ground, his eyelights dim and distant. That was just kind of how Ketchup was, now. He had been here so long. This had been an odd visit from the asshole, but at least none of them had been forced to be his plaything. Fuck, the bar was really low. 

Ketchup seemed extra nervous about taking the gag off, though, and moved away from Sans as soon as he was done. 

"Thanks..." Sans tried, but there was no reply. Not much he could do there, then. He turned to RC instead. "You okay over there?" 

RC still didn't look at Sans. 

"...yeah."

"Right...um" Sans didn't think that the new Sans looked okay, but then, were any of them, really? All they could do was keep it as together as possible. “What should we call you? I’m Mustard and he’s Ketchup, because we really like, ya know...mustard and ketchup...”

“Pfft,” the Sans snorted. “That’s stupid.”

“You got a better idea?” Sans snapped. He had been trying to distract the new Sans. “Or should we just call you ‘RC’?”

The new Sans turned his face away from him, his voice quiet.

“...yeah, that’s fine.”

“Oh...” Sans immediately regretted biting back, but he had. "Look...I know this is...bad. Um, but we just gotta stick together. We can, uh, we can beat him."

RC huddled up with his arms around his knees.

"I won't help you hurt him."

"I...look, none of us are thrilled that he looks just like...like...our brothers. But if we don't do something, then what? Resign ourselves to...this?" Sans gestured around, and there was a gasping noise from Ketchup that sounded depressingly like a sob. 

"I won't...I can't." 

RC glanced over at Ketchup’s pitiful form, then drew his eyes away to finally look Sans in the face.

“Can you use magic?”

“No, none of us can.” Sans pointed out one of the small devices on the other end of the room, unfortunately well out of their reach. “He’s got dampeners up.” 

RC’s eyes darted over the devices.

“Okay...I’ve already got a heap of questions. You know where all of them are?”

“Um,” Sans was caught off guard by the question. That was a sudden about face. It had seemed like he was against them doing anything, but now he wanted to know more. Sans wasn’t going to argue. He was glad to have someone willing to do something. That should give them a better chance. Just, not where the dampeners were concerned.

“No, I don’t. Those two—” he pointed at the other one in the back of the lab.

RC cut him off with a growl.

“Don’t point!”

“Whoa!” Sans drew his hand back slightly. “Why not?” 

The other’s eyes were scoping the ceiling.

“You know if there are any cameras in here?”

“I don’t...think so...” Sans looked up as well, with a frown. “He’s certainly never acted like it.” 

“The only one I’ve ever seen,” Ketchup interjected softly, still sniffling a little, “is the one attached to the machine.” 

RC turned to him.

“And he doesn’t ever act like he knows what you’ve been doing, when he comes back? Doesn’t know things he shouldn’t?”

Sans watched to see what Ketchup would say, but he didn’t say anything, instead shaking his skull. Sans turned back to RC. 

“No, not really,” he added. 

“Okay...” RC breathed out. “The dampeners...do you know how they work? Cause, I mean, not to be gross but...some kinds of magic seem to still work down here.”

“So you didn’t have them either?” Sans asked, glancing at Ketchup. “Basically, it’s a field that doesn’t allow magic to leave your body. If you try to, it’s forced back and the feedback...hurts.” 

“Hmm...” RC looked down at his lap, going quiet. 

“There, uh, has to be at least four more, but they need to be on this wall,” Sans offered, nodding at the wall with the staircase leading out. “Or behind it.” 

RC’s eyes flit over to the wall.

“Maybe the best plan involves leaving them, though...” Before Sans responded, RC’s eyes were back on him, giving him an intense look. “He’s affected too, right? They’re not our disadvantage, they just make us all equal.”

“Yeah, on the magic front,” Sans looked back at RC with a frown. “There are other...” He lifted his arm, dangling the chain attached to it. 

“How good are you at magic constructs? Got good control?”

“Um...decent...” Sans looked over at Ketchup, who was watching them with interest. What was RC talking about? They had established that magic was out. “Why?”

RC huffed.

“If you could use magic normally, could you cut through the chains, attack them?” Sans nodded slowly, still not following the logic. “Could you do that small, controlled...like small enough it doesn’t leave your body?”

RC reached a hand into his own rib cage, wiggling his fingers from inside.

“Skeletons and all?”

“Ah...” Sans looked down at his rib cage. “I would not...be completely confident, no. How about you?” 

RC cringed. 

“I can’t...use attack magic.” His eyes slid down to the floor. “An implant...in my soul...” he mumbled the last bit.

“In your soul?” Sans recoiled a little at the idea. “That sounds...ugh.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” RC looked away.

“No, not...it’s disgusting someone would do that.” Sans held up his hands. Trying to change the topic, he turned to Ketchup. “Do you think you could do it? With the construct?” 

“Um,” Ketchup stared at him blankly for a little too long, as if the information was hard to find. “No...I haven’t used magic in...” He didn’t finish the sentence, looking away sadly. 

RC kicked a foot lightly at some dirt on the concrete floor, his face curling into a frustrated growl. His eyes darted around in front of him, like he was seeing plans pass before them.

“Getting to the dampeners or not, the chains come first...either we get them off, or he does...”

He looked over at the asshole’s messy worktable. 

“Just need one of us...there are pliers, wire cutters...should be something we can use without magic to get chains off the others...”

His eyes glanced over the machine.

“Chains, then tools, then that weirdo time machine...”

“Right...” Sans glanced over at Ketchup with a worried look. Hopefully RC would get let off his chain, then. He wouldn’t let Sans, that was for sure, and by the trembling and the way Ketchup had tightened himself into a ball, he wouldn’t do it. Sans knew he was too scared, too worn down for that kind of defiance. 

“We can...try,” Sans said as he turned back to RC. “But, uh, it’s not exactly a time machine. More like...alternate realities.” 

RC was woken from his concentrated state to jump a little at the shoulders and stare at Sans.

“It’s—what—?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Good enough. It’s the exit, yeah?” RC kicked at the dirt again. “Chains, then tools—no. Chains, then...he has to leave somehow. Get him to leave...”

RC stared down for a long moment, looking too focused for Sans to want to interrupt him. Then RC suddenly got up and went to the water bowl.

He stuck both hands in it, then rubbed them on the dirt on the floor, mashing it into a wet mess on his hands. He looked at Sans.

“Can only use magic in our own bodies, right?”

“Um, yeah, that’s how...it was explained to me back...when they were developed.” Sans said, watching RC with confusion. 

RC nodded, then inexplicably started licking up the muddy mess on his hands. Unperturbed by the disturbed look that got, he went on.

“Okay....I think I’ve got something. There’s at least one thing I know all of us should be able to do fine, with or without magic.”

***

Papyrus took the stairs a little faster than normal. He was excited to get down there and see RC. He was new, a novelty. As Papyrus reached the lab, he was met with the uncommon sight of both Blue and Red asleep, completely out on the floor. RC, though, was eagerly waiting for him. He'd crept as close to the bottom of the stairs as the chain on his neck allowed, sitting on his knees. He looked at Papyrus as soon as the door was opened.

“Hi RC,” Papyrus spoke quietly, trying not to wake the others. He walked towards RC, giving him a smile and an interested look. The sans was eager, which only added to Papyrus’s excitement. If RC wanted contact this badly, maybe they could move on sooner than he had hoped. 

On a closer look, Papyrus could see some redness under RC’s eyes, like he’d had a rough time. He was shivering enough that some of the chains rattled around him.

“P-papyrus. Could you...hold me?” As he said it, RC reached out for him, straining on the chain so much that it gave a resistant jangle.

“Sure,” Papyrus hurried the last few steps and knelt down to wrap his arms around RC. “Sure, of course. Was Red mean to you?” 

Small hands reached around to grasp at Papyrus immediately, RC practically leaping into an affectionate embrace. He kept tugging his neck at the collar, even choking on it a little, like an impatient dog on a leash.

“No, nothin' like that, I just...it felt long. I g-got tired. Could you...pick me up, maybe...carry me around a little, I...” he gripped onto Papyrus tighter. “I know it’s dumb, but...”

“No, it’s not dumb,” Papyrus did stand, stepping forward as he did so to give RC some slack. He was trying not to show how happy he was that one of the sanses actually wanted to be with him. “Just give me a second.” 

He had to juggle RC back and forth as he hunted down the right key to unlock his main chain, but eventually it fell away with a clatter. Papyrus winced, but the other two slept through the noise. That was odd. He’d have to check on them after RC was feeling better. 

“How’s that?” He asked, slowly turning away from the sleeping skeletons. 

RC rubbed his face on Papyrus’s chest, giving a grateful sigh.

“Thanks...it f-feels nice...”

RC looked up into his eyes, raising his head closer. Closer than Papyrus expected from him, actually.

“Papyrus...maybe I could...I mean, I could try, for you...”

Papyrus was startled by the offer, but then leaned forward to meet the kiss eagerly. 

And was rewarded by RC puking on his mouth.

“Mm!” Papyrus stepped backwards, dropping RC as he did so. He coughed, trying to get it out of his mouth, with little success. 

RC fell on the floor in a heap, still heaving, his voice thick. The raw magic dribbling down his chin was an off color for him, an alarming muddy red that didn’t look healthy at all.

“P...papyrus I’m s-sorry...I thought I wasn’t s-sick anymore...I was feeling better...”

He turned his head shakily to look at Blue and Red. 

“They stopped...moving a while ago...I think maybe they...f-fell down cause I...cause they got some on...”

It was then that Papyrus noticed some speckles of the muddy red magic expulsion dotting the other two immobile forms. RC looked up at Papyrus tearily.

“You should...wash off fast, so you don’t...shouldn’t come b-back in, or it might...spread through the Underground like it d-did in my...”

“Fu—ugh,” Papyrus spit out more of the vomit, feeling nauseous himself. Some sort of contagion? This was not what he needed. 

“Stay put,” he said, and rushed over to the dusty pile of boxes in the very back of the lab. He tossed the first couple aside and went digging through the last one, still coughing. He wasn’t great at biology, but maybe, if he got it under a microscope, he could figure out something. On his way back to the work table, he glanced at the machine. He should have been more careful...but something seemed odd. 

He could only worry about one thing at a time. RC was still on the floor near his sick, so Papyrus crouched down next to him while he got some of the mess into a small dish. 

“Tell me more about this sickness,” Papyrus said shortly while he did so. Oh fuck, he needed to do something. If he had something deadly, he couldn’t go back out to Sans, but if he didn’t then Sans would come looking for him anyways. 

RC coughed pitifully.

“You shouldn’t be down here, Papyrus, it’s b-bad. You should go to Alphys, see if there’s something in her lab that can help you...”

“No way,” Papyrus snapped, standing and taking the sample over to the microscope. “Have to quarantine it here. Surely you know that...if you...were dealing with...an outbreak...” 

He turned back to RC, brow bones lowered as he put together what was bothering him about the whole situation. He had done his research this time. He’d even figured out how to peek in on the world before going there. He’d seen RC and thought he was perfect, because he was already used to being used and doing anything anyone wanted. Papyrus had seen him do some weird and nasty shit. Shit that would never fly with a deadly contagion going around.

“But then, there were no containment procedures in your world, were there?” Papyrus asked, growing angry as he stepped towards RC. “Fuck, you even puked in front of someone, and no one cared. You little shit...” 

RC shrunk away.

“No, it...that was w-why we were stuck in the...Red City complex, it...it was s-supposed to be safe...I w-wasn’t supposed to be sick...”

“And your brother?” Papyrus asked, still advancing, “he didn’t make it to this disease free whore house?” 

RC froze for a second, then leapt behind Red to pull out a pair of bolt cutters and hold them out in front of himself defensively. The little bastard must have stolen them from the worktable.

RC cocked his head with a nervous grin.

“Heh...heh...what’s wrong, bro? This version of you not into a good jape?”

“A good...” Papyrus snarled, eyeing the sharp ends of the cutters. He couldn’t just rush in and risk RC getting even one good hit in with them. They probably had even less trouble with bone than metal. “Your humor needs some work. That and your manners. Nothing a good punishment won’t fix.” 

RC’s pupils shrank, his shaking making the cutters clatter noisily. He still took one step forward with the cutters splayed out.

“You...need more help than me, Papyrus, cause this whole basement is one sick joke. I never thought I’d ever be ashamed of you for anything.”

“Ha!” Papyrus laughed, startled at the statement. What did the opinion of a lesser copy of Sans matter? “So? What? You’re going to... _help_ me with those?”

RC hesitated with the cutters, leaning forward, but his mouth pulled back in dismay. At the last moment, he turned to get the cutters on Red’s chains. It was a bad strategic choice—one cut wasn’t enough to get the thick chain off at once.

Papyrus ran forward, locking RC’s head in one arm while he reached for the bolt cutters with the other. He wrenched them out of RC’s hands with a grunt. As he did so, hands grabbed his tarsals. Fuck. Red was pulling on his feet, trying to knock him over, and eventually it would work. 

“RC, get them!” Red called out. 

RC grabbed for the cutters, but even his desperate clutching wasn’t enough to get them free. Papyrus held onto them like it was life or death. It might actually be, with Red in the mix. He released RC and jerked backwards, trying to free his feet. It worked, though he fell on his coccyx. Desperately, he lifted the cutters, much like RC had before. 

“Don’t you dare,” he yelled as Red climbed to his feet. 

RC was frozen in place, backed against the wall where Red’s chains were attached. He looked between the two of them, apparently out of sneaky ideas.

Red hesitated, wary of the tool, but he stayed alert. His body was tense, and his eyelights were watching for any opening as Papyrus climbed to his feet, careful not to give him one. Once he was up, Red didn’t relax so much as droop. 

“You bastards...” Papyrus panted, waving the cutters to gesture at them. “Big...fucking...mistake.” He walked closer and Red backed away, glaring daggers at him. 

“Red, get RC’s chain back on,” he said, jabbing forward to make his threat clear. 

RC’s mouth fell open a little as he looked over at Red, but RC didn’t move an inch to get away. Red turned to look at him, then back at Papyrus. He didn’t move either, instead focusing on the clippers. 

“Do it!” He insisted, growing more furious at their inaction. “Each minute it takes...is a rib.” 

RC jolted, pressing harder against the wall, and finally spoke.

“...whose rib?”

“Wha—?” Papyrus looked at him, caught off guard. Red’s skull turned to look at him, too. Even though it should have been the easiest question ever, Papyrus’s mind stalled and he couldn’t come up with anything. That only pissed him off more. 

Stalking forward, he focused on the back of Red’s skull. RC made a strangled noise, but it was too late. By the time Red turned and saw him, he was close enough to grab him by the collar, and lifted him up off the ground with a growl. 

Papyrus felt a hand on his arm. RC had shot up next to him, quaking and just barely touching him.

“Wait. Please. I’ll put it back on. Please.”

“You think—” Papyrus took a deep breath. “It’s...a start.” he replied, ignoring Red’s fingers trying to pry his off the collar. 

RC backed up slowly, not taking his eyes off Papyrus, and knelt down to grab the end of his chain. He meekly shuffled back toward Papyrus again, holding the chain close to his collar so it could be locked. 

RC’s eyes went to Red and his continuing struggle in Papyrus’s grip. RC ducked his head like he was trying to meet Red’s gaze, and his voice came out soft.

“D—...don’t make me see that. Come on, please.”

“Really?” Papyrus asked, lifting Red a little higher. Red kicked at him, but there wasn’t any force behind them. “You think you can ask for _anything_ after that stunt?” 

RC’s breath hitched. 

“Okay. I...” His eyes kept going nervously to Red for a second, then he managed to keep a steady, if terrified gaze on Papyrus. “You...said a minute. I...d—...I did it, so...” He sunk down to his knees. “Please don’t do it. What can I. What can I do.”

With a sigh, Papyrus dropped Red. He landed with a grunt, his legs buckling as they hit the ground. Papyrus clutched the cutters tighter and walked over to RC. Using his free hand, he locked the chain in place. He should put the leg chains back on, too, but that could come later. 

“What can you do?” Papyrus repeated, looking down at RC. “You can do your job.” 

RC flinched, but he didn’t look surprised. A few tears leaked out his sockets as he opened his mouth.

“Oka-ay,” he whimpered.

Papyrus smirked, his mood improving somewhat. 

“Go to the center,” he made a circular motion, indicating the space the sanses occupied. Walking over to put away the bolt cutters, he spotted some extra chains. He considered them for a moment before grabbing them and walking back. 

RC was stiffly crawling to where Papyrus had indicated, either unable to stand up or no longer confident to try. That worked well enough for him. Instead of returning to RC, Papyrus went over to where Red was still laying. As he stepped close, a hand tried to grab him, but it was slow. Papyrus jerked his leg back kicked. 

“Do you ever fucking learn?” He asked, shaking. There was no reply, but no marrow either. Sighing, Papyrus grabbed Red’s chain, using it to drag him over to RC. RC watched anxiously. His foot connected with Red’s skull with a small crack.

“What are...didn’t you want me...to...?”

Papyrus didn’t answer him. It was kind of fun to watch him worry. Silently, Papyrus arranged Red, who seemed to be unconscious, on his back on the floor, and set the chains down a little bit aways. 

“Come here,” he looked at RC. 

RC’s quaking turned into hard tremors, his tears falling faster as he looked between Papyrus and Red.

“No no no don’t...involve him, I can—I can do what you want, I can—make it...good, just don’t...it was all my idea, please, please—”

“And you will,” Papyrus leaned over and grabbed RC’s arm, pulling him towards Red. That drew a petrified squawking sound out of him. “But tonight, thanks to your little stunt, I am out of time.” 

RC shook his head, his eyes shut.

“Don’t make me hurt anyone, I was never g...I was never gonna hurt you, I can’t...”

“You were just going to help Red do so,” Papyrus pointed out, voice tight. RC’s excuses were getting his temper going again, so he wasn’t exactly gentle as he forced RC into position straddling Red. 

RC sobbed.

“N-no, no, it wasn’t supposed to—it was just to g—. Get you to leave, I wasn’t gonna. I wasn’t...”

“Well then maybe you should have paid attention to who...you were getting in bed with.” Papyrus chuckled at his own joke. He reached over to grab a chain and then pushed RC down so the two sanses’ rib cages were pressed together. He used the chain to bind their collars together. “You’ll have plenty of time tonight.” 

RC’s bones clacked against Red’s as he shook. He turned his wide-eyed stare to Papyrus, but only air came out of his mouth. It seemed he was out of things to say to that.

Papyrus let that be the end of the conversation, continuing to chain them at their carpals and tarsals, as well as a thin one through some of their ribs. He smiled a little more at that one, hoping the pressure on their ribs whenever they moved would drive the punishment home. 

“There we go.” He stood, finished with the chains. “Now you two can get real friendly, and keep each other from getting up to any shit while I’m gone.” He glanced at Blue, who had spent the whole ordeal in the corner of the lab. He was staring at RC and Red, and trembling softly. 

Papyrus regretted that he hadn’t even been able to spend some time with him, at least, but he really did need to get out of there before Sans started to worry. 

“Have a good night,” he sneered as he rushed upstairs. That would teach them a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by to see the boys. For more woes and misery, you can visit Uggy on twitter at @idek_uggy, and Germindis can be found
> 
> absolutely nowhere, he is a figment of Uggy's imagination
> 
> ...
> 
> okay i guess you can say hi on discord (McLeech#6309)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey troublemakers, welcome back to your sad bean program.
> 
> Warnings in the end note.

Sans tried to wake up. It felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing. The asshole, fuck. Was Ketchup okay? Was he okay? Shit, and RC...he’d been in trouble. Growling, Sans tried to shake away the sleep, not sleep, skull injury? It didn’t hurt. There was a heaviness around his neck. That didn’t even feel right. Sans tried to move his arm and see what it was, but moving his arm was difficult.

RC’s voice came from very close by.

“Uh. Hey. S-sorry about this.”

“Mm, what...happened?” Sans asked, willing his eyelights into existence. It took him a moment to grasp what he was seeing. It eventually resolved into the side of a skull, RC’s he had to assume. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t help it. He...tied us together.”

“He...fuck.” Sans went to move his arm again, this time recognizing the extra weight as RC’s arm. RC belatedly lifted his arm with it so it wasn’t dead weight. “He never fails to find new lows, does he. You okay?”

“Yeah, was gonna ask you that.”

“I’m fine,” Sans flapped his hand, and it slapped against the floor. He tilted his head up, trying to look around, but the collar didn’t give him much range. “Ketchup, you okay?”

“Yes,” came the quiet answer, then nothing. He sounded upset, but that was to be expected.

RC shifted his head to try to look, too.

“...sorry I drooled on you guys for nothing.” He pulled his neck back as much as he could to look down at Sans. “Kinda backwards for a punishment, though. Least it ain’t lonely.”

He wiggled his hand, like he was trying to gesture.

“Hey, uh...’Ketchup,’ come join this fuckin’ cuddle pile.”

Sans winced at the sharp gasp that followed the statement.

“N...no...” Ketchup replied, a jangling sound must have been him shaking his head. “I...I can’t...”

“Oh...um...no pressure…” RC grinned weakly. He eyed Sans. “Damn, that just makes this awkward then. I didn’t bring any flowers for this date.”

“Hah,” Sans laughed, surprising himself. “If this is a date, I am not dressed appropriately.”

“Funny, this is exactly how all my dates dress.”

“Now that’s my kind of dress code, minimum effort.” Sans made a thumbs up.

RC’s wry grin fell after a moment, his gaze drifting off to the side.

“...sorry...”

“What are you sorry for?” Sans couldn't keep looking at RC, so he looked to the other side. “It's not your fault. I'm sorry I couldn't...stop him before he could drag you into this shit.”

“This...” RC’s voice caught. “...how could he do this...?”

“That’s...” Sans sighed, staring at the filthy floor. “He’s messed up. Papyrus would never—could never do this.”

RC’s brows knit together, weariness weighing down his expression.

“But...Papyrus _is_ doing this...”

“No!” Sans said hoarsely and shook his head. “He’s not Papyrus. I don’t care what he looks like. He’s not!”

RC went quiet for a moment, not looking at Sans anymore. Whatever he thought about that, he didn’t share it. When he spoke, his voice was lowered, presumably so Ketchup wouldn’t overhear.

“You think he’d really...your...your ribs...?”

“Yeah, he probably would.” Sans settled on looking at RC’s scapula while he talked. It felt strange to not even look at him, given everything. “We’ve...clashed before. He gave my skull crack another inch or so.”

RC's breathing picked up, uncomfortably tightening the chains that tied their rib cages together.

"Hey, calm down. He doesn't do it for laughs, at least. I kinda, heh, dislocated his tarsals." Sans admitted ruefully. "And it sounds like if there's any, ah, more painful punishment coming, it'll be me, so that's good. Though I'm sorry you had to promise..." Sans realized he was rambling and probably not in any helpful way, "...that."

He wished he could be a little more comforting. Since he couldn't reach anything else, he patted RC's hand with his. It was kind of a sad attempt, but it was something.

RC took a few gulping breaths, gradually getting under some control.

"It’s not like...that wasn’t already gonna happen..." RC breathed out slow and long. "That skull crack, though...how did you survive it?"

"Oh," Sans was glad that he didn't actually have to respond to RC's statement, but that wasn't quite anything he wanted to talk about either. The crack wasn't all that subtle, so he supposed it was inevitable. "Um, I fell. Had a bit too much to drink at Grillby's, ya know?"

When Sans looked at RC's face, the other's eyes were fixed on the old injury.

"No...no, I don't know." He met Sans's eyes before Sans could look away again, and the intensity trapped him. "You're not me, either. You can't be from a branch of my timeline, even though we look almost the same. "

Despite that, RC's face took on a look Sans was pretty sure was the same one he wore on the occasion he got talking about quantum mechanics.

"You said...alternate realities. Like parallel universes?" RC's eyes fixed somewhere far away, beyond his line of sight. "Instead of branches on a tree...a whole forest of trees. Growing up parallel, with different roots..."

RC barely seemed to be talking to Sans anymore.

"No wonder he looks so different. The flat teeth, the orange magic...it's not possible for him to have branched from my timeline either."

"Basically," Sans agreed, "and there's a lot of variables that change. Magic color, injuries, um, drinking habits, I suppose." He heard Ketchup snort at that, and wondered which side he was on. "Bet even our time in the labs and shit like that is different."

RC's focus swiftly returned to Sans.

"...time in the...labs...?"

"Yeah..." Sans looked at RC, curious, "With Gaster? You have to have done that, right? Or else how are you...alive? I'm going to assume since neither of you know about the dampeners, you didn't have to play guinea pig for them, or possibly not at all."

RC's expression through Sans's ramble was one of increasing alarm, his eyelights shrunken in what could be shock or disgust.

"What the fuck...?"

"Were you not experiments?" Sans asked, growing uncomfortable. Ketchup must have sensed it, because he replied almost immediately.

"I was, well, we were. But, um, he was pretty nice to us. Few tests now and again...nothing painful."

A noise came from RC like he’d run out of air to speak. His eyes searched Sans’s, then pointedly looked to the side.

“I...”

Sans watched him, even more insanely curious about his past. His surprise at Sans and Ketchup sharing theirs, even broadly, raised all sorts of questions. Sans just wasn’t sure if he should ask those questions. What if his was worse? What if they were dragging up all kinds of horrible things, and while he was already dealing with plenty of horrible things.

“Uh...no pressure,” he said, trying to sound neutral.

RC’s eyes were still traveling around, like he was reading the answer from the air, or trying to pull one out of it.

“It’s just...now that you say it, I’m not sure if I was or not.”

“Oh, sorry...I didn’t think—He wasn’t all that subtle about it with us. How about you, Ketchup?” Sans called, trying to keep him engaged, even if he wasn’t going to join them physically.

“He offered to cut up the tubes we grew in...and turn them into novelty beds.” He said dryly, as if trying not to cry...or laugh. Sans wasn’t sure he had ever heard Ketchup laugh.

RC had grown quiet, no longer looking at Sans.

Sans frowned and tapped his fingers against the floor while he tried to think of something to break the tension. Something not likely to blow up in his face and make anyone feel even worse.

“Anyone...got any,” he abandoned the idea to ask for jokes as soon as he started the sentence. All of his were...too close to home. “Games? No movement necessary games?”

RC snorted.

“Three-legged race?”

Sans laughed, actually pretty glad that someone else liked tasteless jokes.

“...twenty questions?”  
  


***

Sans looked away from RC and wondered what he should do. They’d fallen asleep while playing the game, despite the fact that RC was a dirty cheat. Sans was a little less concerned about that now, and much more concerned with the warmth he could feel above his pelvis.

“RC,” he whispered.

RC didn’t wake. Actually, calling his name appeared to be a mistake, because he only moaned softly in reply and ground his pelvis down on Sans’s.

“Shit,” Sans hissed, instinctively jerking away from the contact, which was useless, given the situation. For that matter, he rubbed against RC as he did so. Flushing, he froze.

RC’s knees squeezed against Sans’s legs as his hips rolled on top of him. Sans could feel RC’s magic starting to drip over him, even though small, frustrated noises were coming from the other monster, like he wasn’t getting enough friction.

“Mm...mm...”

“Haaaa, damnit, RC...” Sans groaned, trying to stay quiet. This was the last thing Ketchup needed to see. Sans wiggled, trying to jostle RC awake.

“M...more...want it...”

“RC!” Sans said a little louder, poking his hand urgently. His reaction to RC’s words was not fully appropriate.

RC finally blinked, starting to come to with a dopey expression and an almost innocent blush over his face, like he was coming up from a pleasant dream. As soon as he tugged at one of his legs, though, his entire countenance morphed into panic.

“Wh—n-n-no, no, let me go, let me g-go please—”

“Woah, shhh, shhh, it’s okay...it’s just me. RC, it’s okay.” Sans rushed to calm him down. “It’s Mustard.”

RC only seemed to hear what Sans said for a second before an unsuccessful tug on another limb made RC’s eyes look like they were somewhere in space. He kept squeaking and gasping, trying to free something.

“I’ll be good, don’t kill me, fuck me instead, please, please—!”

“God no, I don’t want to kill you...or fuck you. It’s Mustard! Snap out of it!” Sans spoke louder, trying to get through to him.

That just made RC shut his eyes and start crying. At least he’d stopped fighting the chains. He hiccuped, and a few tears sprinkled Sans’s face.

“Don’t tie me down. Don’t tie me down. Let me go ple—ease.”

“I didn’t—I can’t—we’re stuck like this, I’m sorry...” Sans trailed off helplessly. RC didn’t seem this freaked out by the chains before, but Sans didn’t know what to do to remind him, short of spelling out the whole situation. He really didn’t want to do that.

RC whimpered against him, not saying anything else. Disturbingly, his magic hadn’t dissipated through the whole panic. It was still dripping a little, even.

“RC?” Sans asked quietly, doing his best to ignore the wetness. “You know where you are?”

When there was no reply, Sans gripped RC’s hand, the only part he could.

“It’s Mustard. You’re trapped with me and Ketchup. I’m not going to hurt you. He’s not going to hurt you.” Sans kept talking to him softly and making soothing noises.

RC’s eyes opened slowly, some light and focus returning to them.

“Ah—fuck.”

He pulled at his wrists and shuddered.

“Ah fuck...”

Sans stopped talking and just watched RC take in his surroundings. It wasn’t like it was a good situation, and Sans wasn’t even sure he could say it was any better than whatever RC had been seeing. It was real, though.

“M’sorry...” RC mumbled. “I...tried not to...”

“It...it’s okay.” Sans shook his skull. “Things are a bit...weird.”

RC let his eyes drift down, looking distracted.

“...oh...shit....”

He wore a concentrated expression for a moment, and then the warmth of his magic was gone from near Sans’s pelvis. RC didn’t make eye contact again, his mouth twisting in an embarrassed grimace.

Sans did his best to ensure that eye contact didn't happen. There wasn't any good way to talk about what happened. Not that he really wanted to. At least RC was present again.

“You two okay?” Ketchup asked quietly, making Sans jump.

RC made a choking noise.

“S...sure...”

“All good, Ketchup,” Sans echoed. “Just gonna go back to sleep.”

Ketchup’s chains clinked and then it fell quiet again. Sans really did try to fall back asleep, but he was barely drowsing when he heard the door open. He snapped awake at the sound.

“Here we go,” he muttered.

RC started whimpering and wriggling on top of him, apparently already awake.

"No...no..."

"Shhh," Sans shushed, glancing at the bottom of the staircase. He didn't want the asshole to see how scared RC was. "He'll only be encouraged. You have to calm down."

"Ngh...ungk..." RC swallowed, quieting down, but he was still shaking, his eyes squeezed shut.

Sans held his hand again as they listened to the asshole walk down, letting go right before he came into the room.

The asshole was holding a plate of more fucking tacos in one hand and a bag in the other, probably more sandwiches.

He looked at them for a moment before smiling.

"Sleep well?" He asked, mocking. "I know I did." Sans had to grit his teeth at the way he peered at RC. Sick fuck.

It seemed the pressure of putting on a brave face was too much for RC. Silent tears overflowed down his face, his eyes still closed.

It pissed Sans off. Why was he always that little bit more horrible every day? Things were already as bad as Sans could imagine, but somehow this prick found a way to make them worse. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Who would pay if Sans made him angry? Probably not Sans.

The asshole didn't seem to mind the lack of answer and came over to unlock their chains after setting the food on the table.

RC stayed stiffly still through the process, as though he were paralyzed. With each chain that was released, though, he let out a short breath.

Sans had to fight to stay still. Realistically, there wasn't much he could do. Anything, actually, that would stop it from happening altogether.

Once he was done, the asshole stepped back.

"Rise and shine, RC."

RC got himself up shakily, rising to his knees and no further. He shuffled a few feet from Sans, then looked up into their captor's face.

He looked down at RC, still leering. Sans slowly sat up, hoping that the asshole wouldn't take him moving as any intent to act up, as much as he wanted to. They'd felt so close yesterday.

"You haven't forgotten your promise." He reached down and pet RC. Sans had to look away, uncomfortable with seeing the fucker treat the other Sans like some kind of pet.

"Learned your lesson?"

"Yes..." RC whispered. "Papyrus...could..."

Sans looked back their way. RC wasn't looking at the asshole anymore, his head bent down and eyes to the floor.

"Could you blindfold me...?" RC's hands clenched at his knees, his voice dropping low. "I just wanna be good. I wanna...do a...good...job. Please."

"Don't want to look at me?" The asshole asked, with a laugh. "Fine. We can do that first. Don't want to repeat any parts of yesterday..."

Walking over to the worktable, he grabbed a grease stained rag and returned with it. He stopped behind RC and knelt down to tie it over his sockets.

RC held almost too still, like he didn't want any reason to be told he was misbehaving. When the rag was tied, he let out a small sigh, then turned around and reached for the asshole. His reach was fast, but the way his hands landed on the asshole's legs was sickeningly gentle, his fingers curling up softly in the fabric of the shorts.

"Could I please suck your cock?"

The freak was clearly caught off guard by that, his expression going blank, and then a slow, sick smile spread across his skull. Sans cringed as he used one hand to pet RC again, the other eagerly unbuttoning his shorts.

"Of course," he said, sounding indulgent.

RC obediently bent his head forward, his hands and mouth meeting at the bastard's crotch to pull his dick out from his shorts and swirl his tongue over the head. He pulled back from the first lick with a moan, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Mm, it's so hard already..."

Sans was as shocked at the transformation as the asshole looked, though for Sans it wasn't a pleasurable surprise. The asshole looked like he was getting the first blowjob of his life, which Sans knew wasn't the case. His mouth was hanging open, low, pleasured noises spilling out as RC worked.

Which, Sans suddenly realized, was the point of the blindfold. RC was treating this like his job. Knowing how scared he really was, the fact that the asshole was enjoying it so much just aggravated Sans more. He could hardly imagine what RC was thinking. Not that he really wanted to.

He didn't particularly want to hear the way RC was talking the asshole up, either. Between every other stroke and bob of RC's head over the cock, he was telling the asshole how big it was, how good, how much he wanted to taste his cum, and the asshole was eating it up.

“Mmmm,” he moaned, thrusting forward into RC’s mouth suddenly, his hand on his skull. Sans winced at each one.

RC made a small noise at the first time, but managed to make even that look like an erotic experience, the rest of his body writhing around as he moaned over the cock in his mouth. Sans had an unpleasant moment to wonder if RC was used to this type of treatment.

Sans looked away uncomfortably, checking on Ketchup first. He was clearly upset, sitting with his knees up and his skull bowed. His hands fidgeted with a few links of chain. Sans couldn't tell if he was crying exactly, but he trembled occasionally. It was too bad that Sans couldn't at least comfort him.

He was fucking helpless. Subconsciously, he felt along the links of his chain and found the one RC had started to cut. Progress, as meaningless as it was right this second.

A disgusting slapping sound was coming from where RC was working on the asshole, a quick glance up burning the image in his brain of RC jerking their captor off at a fast pace, his mouth hanging open in wait.

“Mn, yeah, give it to me,” RC encouraged, alternating between more dirty talk, and sucking off the head of the dick.

“Oh fu—” the asshole cut himself off with a loud, unfortunately familiar moan. Sans looked at them again, surprised, and sure enough, he was coming. Sans’s soul churned with each spurt as it landed on RC. At least it was over, and faster than usual.

RC took the cock back in his mouth, making swallowing noises. The member gave a few last hard twitches as RC finished helping the asshole through his orgasm.

“Nnngh,” he grunted as it ended, clutching RC’s skull. Since Sans was trying to find the nonexistent balance between keeping an eye on things and not watching, it took him a moment to realize what fell to the ground next to them. Once he figured out it was the blindfold, his eyelights snapped to RC.

RC choked, tumbling back on his ass and quickly wiping at his face. When he caught up to his own action, he froze in place like that, the back of one hand over his mouth and his eyelights fixed on the asshole.

Sighing, the freak stared down at RC while he fixed his pants. He didn't look like someone who had just come. The movements were jerky and frustrated. He opened his mouth, paused, and then shut it again.

RC rubbed his hand over his mouth one more time, tears starting to streak down his face. The asshole frowned at him. Sans tensed, expecting him to punish RC, but instead he walked over to the table. The food was placed next to RC, and then he silently stormed up the stairs.

There was an eerie stillness in the lab until the door slammed at the top of the stairs, seemingly launching RC to scramble as far away from the other two as possible to vomit in a corner.

Sans got up, but he wasn't actually sure what to do. Stepping over closer to RC, he hovered, still feeling useless.

RC was drooling onto the floor, but nothing more was coming up. Then his face crumpled, and he buried it in both hands, sobbing into them.

"Shit, um..." Sans shuffled even closer. Ketchup and him didn't touch anymore, and he wasn't sure that RC would really want to be touched after that. There wasn't anything to say, though. Words that would make RC feel better didn’t exist.

"RC, come, come out of the corner, at least." Sans said.

RC didn't move. He kept crying and mumbling something into his hands.

"I should die I should just die I should di-ie..."

"What, no!" Sans involuntarily stepped forward, his soul tightening. He was right behind RC now. Glancing over at Ketchup, who was even more hunched, Sans grappled with the words he wanted to say.

"You were violated. That's not on you. It's on that sick bastard..." Sans turned back to RC. "We gotta...stick together. Someday we'll find a way out."

RC turned around to press his face into Sans's legs, and Sans could already feel them getting wet from tears. The position was a disturbing echo of the one RC had been in only moments ago with the asshole.

"I can't do this, I don't know what to do, please help me..."

"Um, I...I'll do what I can. Of course." Sans lifted his hand, as if to set it comfortingly on RC, but the only place he could reach was his skull. He couldn't do it. "We can figure it out..."

Slowly, he knelt down, trying to get at skull height with RC. He had to stop talking. Sans couldn't promise anything, because he couldn't control anything. Besides, his first sickening thought had been that the only real way to spare RC was to sacrifice Ketchup. He hated that it had occurred to him at all, and there was no way he would say it. Neither way was okay.

RC's hands reached out to clutch at Sans's sides, and he pushed his face into Sans's chest. Sans held his arms wide, surprised, and then carefully hugged him, giving him ample opportunity to refuse. RC whined against him, his shoulders shaking.

"He...f-fucking...paid...me-e..."

It took Sans a moment to catch up before he caught the image in the corner of his eye of the bag of food the asshole had left on the floor, next to where RC had just been.

"That, no," Sans shook his skull, "that's a pretty typical meal. I'm surprised he remembered to bring more." Sans kept his darker thoughts about the asshole's tendency to forget they were actually living monsters to himself.

"Why is it worse if he pays instead of just...?"

RC flinched hard, tilting his head down to hide his face.

"Shit, sorry," Sans backtracked quickly, berating himself. "Shouldn't have asked."

"It really isn't...payment." Sans rubbed RC's back awkwardly, trying to undo some of the damage he'd done. "Just enough to keep us alive, and you need to eat it. Second meals are hit or miss."

RC pushed himself back from the hold, rubbing his hands over his face. There was still an uncomfortable-looking mix of fluids on it, some snot clinging to his hand.

"I, fuck...sorry..." he muttered, dragging his arm across his sockets to wipe off fresh tears.

Sans sat back on his heels, watching RC, worried.

"It's...okay. What happened is horrible. I, uh, we both get it..." Sans shrugged sadly. He really hated that he had nothing more to offer.

RC didn't say anything else. When they all got around to opening the bag, RC refused the food, claiming he wasn’t hungry.

Sans sat back and kept an eye on both of the other skeletons. He was worried about RC, especially how he'd handle seeing the asshole again, which they inevitably would. At the same time, Ketchup was behaving strangely. He was even more quiet and withdrawn than normal. It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panic attack, noncon, nonconsensual blowjob, vomit
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Why do you do this to yourself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming out of hibernation to bring you something sad.
> 
> Warnings in the end note.

Papyrus paused at the top of the stairs and frowned. He had expected that finally getting to sex with RC would make his trips down to the lab better. Something to look forward to. Instead, he kind of didn't want to go at all. The blow job had been good, amazing even. Better than anything he'd ever gotten from Blue. He'd enjoyed it a lot. Too much, maybe. 

Sighing, he walked slowly downstairs. How embarrassing that he hadn't been able to last longer, just from his mouth, and it had been the first time doing anything with RC. Papyrus bit back a groan. That kind of lack of control was uncommon while he was in the lab. It felt for all the word like when RC had hatched his little plan, or when Red messed up his foot. He didn't like it. But what could he do? If he punished RC for doing something sexual with him, it would only make it harder going forward. 

At least he wasn't the only one having a bad day. As he entered the lab proper he noticed that the sanses were scattered, each sitting silent and sullen. 

When RC saw him approach, he crawled into the middle of the floor, waiting for him. The rims of his sockets were red, and his face was a bit of a mess. He still managed to angle his face to get a look from his eyes that was almost teasingly submissive. It looked very practiced—probably was. 

Papyrus felt his magic warm. It wasn't like he didn't want to fuck RC, but he didn't want to let RC control the situation. Which, Papyrus figured, was something else he was good at. 

"Did you want something RC?" 

His question drew Red's attention, and he startled, looking over at them. He'd been staring blankly at the floor, and now glanced between them anxiously. Papyrus shot him a smile, and he grimaced. 

RC, though, barely missed a beat.

"I really want your cock."

RC's tongue hung out a little as he spoke, an invitingly wet glow coming from his mouth.

"Huh?" Papyrus hadn't been expecting that. The other sanses hadn't ever acted like RC. The silence stretched out as Papyrus stood dumbly, trying to formulate a response. Even though he had intended to fuck RC, he wanted it on his terms. Now that RC was asking for it, it felt like doing so would be on RC's terms. Frowning, Papyrus walked past him towards Blue. 

RC's chains jangled from behind him.  
  
"Did...did I...do something wrong?"

Papyrus paused, turning to look at him. It soothed his ego some to see the worried look on the sans’s face.

“No...no,” he smiled at RC, still cautious of punishing him for sex. “I just...wanted to give you a break, since you did such a good job your first time.”

RC twiddled with one of his arm chains nervously.

“I don’t...need, um...”

“Hm,” Papyrus looked at him thoughtfully. Having him beg for it was nice, and made him feel better about giving him what he wanted. Smirking, he faced RC fully. “I don't know...”

“What don’t y—?” RC cut himself off, searching Papyrus’s face. After a second, he swallowed, looking down at the floor. It took another moment before he spoke again, and he didn’t make eye contact anymore.

“Please...I want it really bad. I need your cock...”

There was a choked gasp from behind Papyrus, but he ignored it, walking over to RC. 

“Okay,” he said, looking down at the sans, “if you want me that bad, it would be cruel to refuse. Spread your legs.”

RC jerked in shock, although how the progression could have surprised him, Papyrus didn’t know. 

“Don’t...you want—first...?”

RC’s tongue licked out of his mouth in demonstration, but the action didn’t have the confident look of before.

“But that wouldn't be fair,” Papyrus shook his skull. “I want you to feel good too.” He reached forward and down to fondle RC’s pelvis.

RC flinched from the touch, scuttling back on his hands to drag himself a foot away. He stayed in that position, half on his back with one leg folded over the other, his eyes staring at nothing. There was a faint rattle from his chains even as he froze in place.

Papyrus frowned, left with his arm outstretched. 

“What? What’s wrong? I thought you wanted it?” 

RC shook his head quickly, the faraway look disappearing from his eyes.

“I’m...sorry...I, uh, get...jumpy sometimes, ‘cause of...that place I was at. I...”

He spread his legs out in a straddle sit, a pussy forming between them.

“I really want it. I want you to touch me, please...”

“You can just make it. That’s handy.” Papyrus scooted forwards so he could reach RC again and immediately slipped two phalanges into him. RC made a noise like a squawk as the magic resisted, dry and unaroused. 

“Not quite ready to go, huh?” Papyrus laughed. He leaned forward, over RC and began to work his fingers in and out slowly, stretching as he went. 

RC raised his hips slightly to meet the motion of the fingers.

“Yeah, nn, touch me...like that...”

Papyrus grinned and obliged. While he continued to prepare RC, the magic growing slick, he pressed forward to kiss RC. 

RC huffed against Papyrus’s face through his nose as his mouth was covered, gaping open wider so Papyrus could slip his tongue inside. 

“Mmm,” Papyrus hummed happily as he did just that. There was something nice about RC being so willing and experienced. He would be ready after only a little more, so Papyrus reached down with his other hand to grapple with his pants. 

At the sound of the zipper, RC flinched again, his magic tightening over Papyrus’s fingers.

Considering his options, Papyrus decided that he should make sure RC was good and ready. If he ensured that he enjoyed sex this time, it should help ease his mind for future times. He added another finger, stretching RC even more to counteract the tightness. 

RC made a pained, throaty sound through the kiss, his hips twitching from the strain. Papyrus shivered at the noise, his arousal growing impatient. After thrusting in and out one more time, he withdrew his hand, breaking the kiss to sit back, and pressed his cock to RC’s pussy. 

He could feel RC’s magic shivering against him, but RC’s legs spread out wider.

“Here you...” Papyrus thrust into RC, “...go,” he grunted. Moving forward steadily, he seated himself fully. RC trembled under him, gone quiet.

Papyrus held his pelvis with one hand, the other resting on his femur, holding the smaller form steady as he began to thrust into RC. 

“Fuck...yes...” he groaned. 

RC huffed out a breath that sounded like a cough, but then he was back to egging Papyrus on.

“That feels...so good...please take me...”

“Hah...okay...” Papyrus gasped. He took RC’s femurs and pulled them up around his hips. Tilting his pelvis forward, he drove into RC even harder. 

“AH!” RC twisted in the new position, then abruptly fell into place. “Nng. Yes. It’s so hot...I want it so b-bad...”

RC’s encouragements were starting to sound a little different. Papyrus looked at his face.

RC was still breathing out dirty talk, but tears were streaming steadily from his sockets, and every word or so broke at a hiccup.

“F-...fuck me like that, please...”

Papyrus froze, trying to put together the words and the expression. 

“What the...you lied to me...again. You’re trying to fucking manipulate me.” He growled, angry far beyond what he’d felt before. He still wasn’t in control, still was being led on by this little shit. He’d been generous and given him the benefit of the doubt after his stunt, and still. He scowled, grip tightening around RC’s femurs. 

RC stared at Papyrus in terrified shock.

“But—I was...trying to be...good...” RC’s pupils shrank, his voice coming out in a squeak. “...mercy...”

Papyrus didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He was too mad. RC thought he could control him, but Papyrus was going to prove him he was wrong. Drawing his pelvis back he slammed into RC as hard as he could and kept it up, fucking RC as savagely as he could manage. 

RC choked on a scream, then quickly dissolved into sobbing, reaching his hands out weakly, like a plea. Papyrus didn’t stop, even when he heard someone else shouting, it had to be Red. He let go with one hand and planted it right next to RC’s neck, arching over him while he kept fucking him. 

RC eventually managed to get words out between gasps and cries.

“Please—! Hurts—please...!”

“Maybe...” Papyrus panted out, “you’ll learn to...behave...then.” He didn’t slow. He finally felt like he was in control with RC, and he wasn’t going to let that go. Not to mention, his orgasm was building quickly now. 

The reaching arms curled back to cover RC’s face, like they’d collapsed inward. Papyrus could still hear RC weeping.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry...”

“Good,” Papyrus grunted, slamming into RC more frantically as he got closer and closer. Just a bit more and he could come, deep in RC’s magic. 

_“Ahh!_ Ple-e-ease...!”

“Yes...” Papyrus moaned, thrusting all the way in and releasing as he heard RC beg. He stayed put, only jerking slightly as he did so. 

RC’s arms shifted so his hands covered his face, and he whimpered into them, trembling all over.

“No...no-o...”

Papyrus didn’t move until he was done, but then he pulled out and stood. Fastening his pants, he looked around the room. Blue was staring, but his sockets were black. Red seemed even more upset, which was typical. He stood a few feet away, glaring at Papyrus with his phalanges curled into fists. Whatever he’d wanted to do, he had stopped, and Papyrus knew it was because he was scared. 

When he noticed Papyrus’s gaze he scowled, but still didn’t actually do anything. It was good to know he could be taught restraint. 

Papyrus felt a tug at his pants. RC had gotten himself up to his knees, but he still looked about as small as he could make himself.

“Pap..yrus...could you please pick me up...?”

RC barely waited a moment for Papyrus to respond, apparently expecting to be refused. He turned his face up to him, tears still rolling down it.

“Please I’m...scared and...lonely, and...p...please...”

Papyrus stepped back a little. RC begging him for that after crying through sex didn’t feel right. He felt kind of disgusted by it. He didn’t want to say as much, so he backed away further and then left. The sound of RC sobbing followed him until he closed the lab door.

***

This time Sans didn’t even wait to hear the door close. As soon as the asshole was out of sight he continued on towards RC. He had frozen up, uncertain what he could do that wouldn’t lead to them being hurt worse.... He was turning into a fucking coward. 

“RC?” he asked, slowly kneeling down next to the other monster. 

RC curled up into an even tighter ball on the floor, covering as much of his face as he could as he cried.

“I’m so-rry I’m so dis...gus...ting...”

“Woah, no...just...” Sans set a hand on RC’s shoulder. “Just cry it out, or whatever you need. That was.... Well, we’re here.” He looked over at Ketchup, who was watching them sadly. When he noticed Sans, he nodded slightly.

RC uncurled himself enough to start a crawl toward the wall where his chain was attached, wobbling blindly through tears.

“What are you doing?” Sans asked, easily keeping pace with RC by walking along on his knees. 

RC didn’t answer, curling himself up against the wall and plopping down there like a dog that had been disturbed from its previous sleeping position. He hid his face in his arms again, his shaking shoulders the only indication he was still crying.

Sans settled down next to him, considering what he’d said. Given that he had been in RC’s position, he should know what to say and do, but he didn’t. There wasn’t anything. It was all empty bullshit. 

“Sorry,” he offered. 

There wasn’t any answer. Another look over RC did reveal something concerning, though—he still hadn’t dispelled his magic, a hot glow showing through that he couldn’t cover with his thin limbs. Looking from RC to the spot he’d crawled from, Sans could see a dripped trail he’d left of cum and raw magic, probably from a tear.

“Shit, shit,” Sans started to panic, looking between the spilled magic and RC. They had next to nothing available to them. He didn't know what to do, even if they had any supplies. “What do we...shit, um clean it?” He asked, already standing to go get their water.

He came back with the bowl and the brown paper bag, remembering partway there how Ketchup had used one on his skull. It had not been pleasant, but it was all there was. 

“RC,” he called softly, trying not to upset the other more. “Here's some water...”

RC slowly looked up from his folded arms. His face was a mess, but he wasn’t noisy anymore. He eyed the supplies and shook his head.

“Not enough water. You need it to drink.”

He held out a hand for the paper bag. Sans reached out to him with it slowly. 

“We can manage,” Sans pushed the bowl forward a little, too. “Gotta take care of that.”

“It’ll...heal,” RC mumbled, taking the bag and putting it in his mouth. He rolled it around in there for a moment before dropping it back in his own hand, feeling over the softened surface. 

His hand went down between his legs, touching the paper to his pussy and wincing. He froze like that, starting to whine, apparently still afraid to go any further.

“Um,” Sans really wished he would have used the water. That couldn’t be a good idea. Still, it was done, though now he was faced with what to do with himself. A big part of him was screaming to look away. He shouldn’t be watching RC do this at all. 

RC finally pressed the paper into the opening a little ways, but even the small action made him yelp and curl up. RC brought the paper back in front of him, stained with fluids, and stuffed his other hand between his legs, whole body shuddering hard.

Sans winced, cringing at the sight of the paper. This wasn’t good. Sans hated that Ketchup always bore the brunt of the asshole’s interest, but he was never violent towards Ketchup. He almost treated him like he was made of glass. Sans was roughed up from time to time, but rarely had to actually have sex with the fucker. 

It was starting to look like RC would end up on the receiving end of both his favorite sadistic activities. The thought of it made Sans sick. 

RC dropped the paper to hold himself protectively, apparently done with his cleaning attempt.

Sans waited to be sure and then reached forward to move the paper away, barely holding it by a clean-looking corner. He looked over at Ketchup, but he’d moved. Sans had been so distracted he hadn’t heard the chains. He’d pulled the bed over to them and then backed off a few feet, looking down. 

“Oh, uh, yeah...” Sans grabbed one edge. “Would you be more comfortable with this...?” 

RC only whimpered, not opening his eyes to look.

“Um,” Sans set the bed against the wall next to RC, bent into the corner so it made a little couch. He sat down on the side away from RC to hold it in place. 

“It's here if you want,” Sans thought about RC trying to get Ketchup to join them and decided it was worth a shot. “Me too.” 

RC sobbed, getting up on his hands and knees to weakly crawl over, dropping onto the bed with his arms reaching around Sans’s waist. When he made contact with Sans, as light as it was, he cried harder.

Sans cautiously touched RC’s shoulder, patting it gently. RC circled his arms around Sans a little tighter, pressing his face into Sans’s side.

Since he didn't seem to mind being touched, Sans widened his range and rubbed his back. RC stayed put, eventually calming down. So Sans kept going until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panic attack, noncon, violent sex, crying during sex, vaginal tearing, blood


End file.
